


asbestos hands

by boompits



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boompits/pseuds/boompits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>    there is a fire deep inside us</i>
  <br/>
  <i>    and nobody else can see</i>
  <br/>
  <i>    when it burns out.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	asbestos hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroceu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/gifts).



> in response to [this prompt](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/4049.html?thread=591569#cmt591569) for saso2015. ;u;

the thing was, kunimi knew and had always known that kindaichi was kind of stupid. an intense kind of guy. passionate. dedicated. the type to try and try and try (and usually win, but definitely _keep trying_ if he didn't). stupid.

the thing _was_ , as they stood there eye to (almost) eye in the emptied clubroom, toe to scuffed rubber toe, kunimi couldn't be sure when exactly he'd started finding that stupidity idiotic as opposed to endearing. his mind come to decide at some point that kindaichi's intensity was an irritant, that his passion was suffocation, that his dedication was an utter waste of time—but when? at which point over the years had kunimi become sick of hearing kindaichi call out to him? when had he started to sigh inwardly and think, _what now_ , instead of _hello i like you_...

he had no idea.

"kunimi," kindaichi said. his hands held kunimi's wrists, gentle (restricting) and placating (patronizing). the calluses on those palms of his, those fingers, each their own mark of hard work and a tribute to victory, grated against kunimi's skin.

"kunimi... are you alright?"

 _am i,_ kunimi wondered. _have i ever been._

what kind of person (lazy, self-centred) let himself get with a guy like kindaichi (proud, aware, social, grounded) out of mere convenience, just because he had been there and had been asked? who accepted a confession (earnest, nervous, honest to a fault) just because he liked the guy well enough and a rejection would only cause tension?

kunimi, apparently.

kindaichi's brilliant smile had been a bonus back then. now it just felt like pressure, pressure, pressure.

but wasn't kindaichi the bigger fool for asking for it?

they've known each other for years. kindaichi knows what kunimi is like just as well as kunimi knows what kunimi is like. (he knows kindaichi too.) and yet all kunimi can see when kindaichi looks at him are eyes that say _bring it on. i'll take it_.

kunimi had actually tried, for a while, in that _utmost least effort_ way in which he always did anything; tried to shy away, no drama; tried to make kindaichi like him a little less.

he had definitely, at some point, started to selectively reply to whatever kindaichi messaged him. if it wasn't important, it was ignored. if it was important, kunimi's reply would be monosyllabic.

kindaichi had probably noticed—in all honesty he was stupid but not especially dense; however, if kunimi had ever seemed in a _mood_ , kindaichi had only ever remained steadfast (stubborn) and sure.

"are you okay?"

kunimi's book of _deliberate distancing_ didn't cover the asinine dedication of idiots. he didn't know how else to shake kindaichi's dauntless confidence, how else to unravel that baselessly strong belief that kunimi still liked him back beneath it all, and would forever.

forever was such a very long time, and kunimi could barely remember what he'd had for breakfast any given day much less the method with which he'd accidentally (somehow) made kindaichi fall in(to some semblance of) love, so that he could undo its effects.

it was impossible. and more than the impossibility of it was the bother.

kunimi was, frankly, allergic to bother.

but the path of least resistance was the path he was already on: they were together at school and together for club, together on the way home, together when they studied for tests and together for spiking practice.

more than the inconvenience of mere _bother_ , kunimi abhorred the thought of friction.

and so it didn't take much to not pull his hand away from kindaichi's familiar grip; to murmur an _mmn nothing_ against his mouth when their studies were done for the night and kindaichi asked what was on kunimi's mind. it was so much easier to _not_ avoid kindaichi in the locker rooms after court cleanup and just walk the same path home together the way they always had since becoming acquainted halfway through some unremarkable year at kitagawa daiichi.

kunimi wasn't even sure what he disliked anymore. it seemed to be this vague (bitter) idea of a guy that kindaichi wasn't, because kindaichi was everything a friend and partner could ask for. and yet, here kunimi was. resenting him.

maybe he was messed up after all. maybe he wasn't okay. maybe he'd snap out of it one day and smile at kindaichi like he thought he should want to—like kindaichi deserved to see. but that day was not today.

kunimi closed his eyes and rested his head on kindaichi's shoulder. "it's nothing," he said, hollow and tired and unsure if he meant it. "i'm fine."

 


End file.
